


Burning Up

by rebelwriter6561



Category: X-Men (Alternate Timeline Movies), X-Men (Movieverse)
Genre: Anal Sex, Established Relationship, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Wing Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-30
Updated: 2016-07-30
Packaged: 2018-07-27 15:09:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,136
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7623529
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rebelwriter6561/pseuds/rebelwriter6561
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Warren gets hurt in a fight. Kurt takes care of him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Burning Up

**Author's Note:**

> Listen, when life doesn't give you the wing king you want, you just gotta write your own.
> 
> This is just shameless porn. Enjoy

Life in America was so different than Germany. There were so many sweets, and so many friendly people. The mansion was home, to his friends and himself, and it had so many TVs and music players that Kurt was sometimes overwhelmed. He immediately loved everything he watched or heard, as it was all so new and wonderful to him.

Then there was the library, magnificently rebuilt after its destruction. Kurt had his pick of the books, and some were even written in German. But he focused on improving his English, sticking to what the professor called children's books, which were easier to read and much more exciting.

Kurt was trying to focus on reading, trying to get lost in the fantastical wardrobe land again, but a flurry of whispers made him raise his head and scowl at the group clustered at the door of the library. To his surprise, they were looking at him too, grinning madly. Kurt shifted uncomfortably, and turned to Jean, who had that far-off look on her face she had when she was “eavesdropping”.

“What is…” Kurt started to ask, but broke off when she turned to him with a grin.

“The boys are back!” she cried happily while she shoved her notebook in her bag. Kurt's mind whirled while it tried to catch up with Jean’s sudden glee, but he realized what she meant with a gasp. The boys - Hank, Scott, and Warren! Warren was home!

Kurt lept from his seat, leaving his book behind, and pushed past the laughing group by the door. He knew he was grinning madly, but he couldn't hide his happiness. It had only been a week and a half, but it had been long. He missed Warren.

He could hear Jean running behind him as they raced to the X-Men wing, where Scott, Warren, and Hank would be. He could teleport, but there was always the risk of arriving in the wrong place at the exact wrong time. It wasn't worth the few seconds it saved.

He barreled down the stairs to the prep and landing room, and realized at the last second that someone was coming up them. His instinctive teleport a few feet down saved him from running into Scott, but didn't save him from losing his footing and falling on his tail. There were always risks with normal travel too.

“Sorry, Scott,” he offered over his shoulder as he picked himself back up. Scott didn't seem to mind, if the way he beamed and reached out to Jean was any indication. Kurt started back down the stairs but Scott's voice stopped him.

“Warren's upstairs with the professor.” Kurt stumbled to a halt and turned to his friend. Scott's grin was gone, and he looked worried.

“Why is Warren there?” Kurt demanded, tail twitching as worry filling him. Had something bad happened?

“The fight got a little messy, I don't know what-”

Kurt didn't hear the rest. He'd already run up past the pair and up the next flight of stairs. The teacher's quarters were on the second floor, but why would Professor X bring Warren there? If Warren was hurt he should be in the med bay.

Kurt reached the top and spun in a tight circle, trying to find his friend. Relief shot through him when he finally saw Warren, standing at the end of the hall, right in front of him.

“ _Engel!_ ” Kurt cried happily. Since the way was clear, he teleported right to him, arriving close enough to immediately wrap him in a hug. Warren was a solid comfort against him, and Kurt grinned when he felt Warren's arms come up around him too. 

“God, ease off, Kurt, I can't breathe.” Warren groused, but didn't move away when Kurt loosened his grip. Kurt leaned back to kiss him, but stopped when a foul reek met his nose.

“Urg, Warren, you stink!” Kurt pulled back fully so he could wave his hand in front of his face. The stench of burnt wood and plastic clung to Warren's undershirt and skin, lingering in his nose. The tiny grin on Warren’s face vanished at the comment.

“Wow, real nice, missed you too Kurt. Thanks.” Warren snapped, but Kurt could see beyond the anger - he always could. Warren was drawn up tighter than a spring, shoulders hunched in and eyes tight. And his wings. One had come up to flare out like they always did when Kurt went for a hug, but the other - the left one - stayed tucked back.

Kurt's eyes fell to Warren's hands, seeing them for the first time. They were white with bandages.

“Warren? What happened?” Kurt asked softly. He reached out and gently took one of Warren’s hands, trying not to press too hard on the bandages. Warren's fingers could barely curl in around his.

“That fire-starter we were after...it wasn't a mutant, not the one we were looking for. Just some dumb kid lighting fires. The shed we were in started burning down around us and I couldn't get out and…” Warren held up his damaged hands, “I got burnt.”

“But what-” Kurt reached out to the tucked-away wing but stopped when Professor X poked his head around the open door behind Warren.

“Oh, Kurt, good, I was just about to call for you.” The professor had his usual easy smile on his face, and that sight alone made Kurt relax a bit. “I offered Warren the use of my shower to clean up. More space, you know. Would you mind fetching Warren's toiletries and some spare clothes? I'm almost done tidying up,” he directed at Warren, who looked even more uncomfortable.

“Sure, Professor,” Kurt agreed. He squeezed Warren's hand once before stepping away to jump to Warren's room. He knew where his friend left his showering items and clothes, of course. He was in Warren's room as often as his own.

And of course the professor knew he knew, because the professor knew everything that happened in this house. Their relationship hadn't stayed secret for very long anyway.

He appeared back at Warren's side with his arms full of shampoo bottles and fabric. Warren glanced at his selection, and nodded his approval when he saw the bottle of baby shampoo for his wings. Kurt figured he'd need to wash those, and that was the reason he was using the professor's much larger bathroom.

And he also figured Warren could use his help cleaning up. It would be hard to do with bandaged hands. And he could see for himself what was wrong with his left wing.

He hoped anyway. Maybe Warren didn't want his help, didn't want to be seen like this. And he might not want Kurt touching his wings, his strong but so fragile wings, that he cared for so much. Kurt hadn't even touched them until recently, with Warren's blessing. But if Warren didn't want his help, he would go.

Kurt shifted, suddenly self-conscious and uncertain, but Warren moved too. He shuffled a half-step over so they were shoulder to shoulder, pressed together. His unhurt wing extended behind his back, almost an embrace. The gentle pressure on his upper arm, solid and warm, reassured him.

Warren wasn't good at asking for help, or asking for anything really. But Kurt could read him like an angry loud book, and Warren was asking him to stay. Warren didn't want to be alone.

The professor rolled out of his room, smiling warmly at the pair. “Everything's all set, take as long as you need. Just be sure to clean up afterwards.” He rolled away before Kurt could ask what he meant by _that_. Did he really think…

“Man, this is weird,” Warren breathed as they stepped through the professor's room to the brightly-lit en-suite. “This feels weird, it's like being in the back room of a liquor store. Like we should not be here.”

“When have you been in the back of a liquor store?” Kurt asked, because he agreed - it was very strange being in their professor's room. Too personal. Like they did not belong there.

“I got locked in the refrigerator of one once.” Warren's voice echoed when he stepped into the large tiled bathroom. “That was fun.” 

Kurt closed the door behind them, looking around. There was a large open shower with railings and a bench for sitting, with indeed plenty of room for Warren to stretch his wings out. The smell of harsh sanitizing chemicals almost overpowered the noxious smoke smell on Warren. 

Warren kicked off his shoes and stepped into the shower stall. He slumped onto the stone bench, still wearing his pants. His head dropped as he sighed, tension draining from his shoulders. One wing flexed and relaxed, but the other - the left - stayed tight to his body.

Kurt followed and stopped in front of him, eyes on the wing. Warren looked up when he gently pressed his fingers to the outermost feathers.

Warren's eyes were scared. Kurt knew what others had done - what _he'd_ done - to those wings, but he didn't snap at Kurt or pull away. It was trust that kept him still as the damaged wing pulled out. He trusted Kurt. Kurt had earned that rare and elusive gift, and he treasured it with all his heart.

The primaries stretched out first; they were all whole, if a bit ruffled. Then the wing extended further, and Kurt caught his breath in shock. The skin and covert feathers along the bone were burned off in a patch halfway down, leaving red raw burns behind. The secondaries below were charred and black.

“Oh Warren,” Kurt breathed, stomach twisting. It was like they were in the ring again, seeing the damage and realizing what that meant. Ruined, and burned, useless. Warren had been so happy to see them grow back clean and whole after the metal feathers had fallen out, but now…

“It's not that bad.” Warren was examining the damage, bringing his wing up to his face for a better look. “Hurts like hell, but that's good.”

“How is that good? Kurt whimpered. Warren ran his fingers along the burnt feathers, and charred bits of them flaked off to the floor.

“Cause the last time - you know - it fried the nerves and tissues. Couldn't feel a damn thing. This is just a burn, and it's bruised, but not broken.” Warren flexed his wing with a hiss, and gave a tentative flap. “Gonna hurt to fly, but it's not gonna affect my flight much.” He laughed softly, relieved. “This isn't as bad as I thought it'd be.”

“But Warren-” Kurt started, but stopped when Warren reached up and stroked his face with the back of his hand.

“This isn't like last time, Kurt.” He said softly. “They're not ruined, not dragging me down. I'm not gonna join a cult because of this.” Kurt laughed, because Warren and Storm were always making those jokes, and they were funny in a morbid way. “It's not your fault, you know that.”

“I still feel bad,” Kurt admitted, because it was true. He never regretted anything like he regretted what he did to Warren. This was another reminder that what Kurt did to Warren's left wing had led to such horrible things.

But he was forgiven, more than forgiven. Things were better than before - they had friends, Warren was happy. It almost destroyed the world but it brought them together. 

Warren was smiling his beautiful crooked smile, which melted Kurt's insides to see. “Well, you can help me feel better, at least. That'll help.” 

Kurt nodded and grinned. He knew exactly how to help. He dragged off his shirt, throwing it at the sink. 

Warren laughed when he started undoing his pants. “That's actually not what I meant by making me feel better, buddy,” he chuckled.

“I know,” Kurt agreed as he stepped out to grab the soap and shampoos, leaving his pants and underwear with his shirt. “I'm going to clean you up, since your hands are hurt. I don't want my clothes wet.”

Warren was grinning, beaming, at him. He looked at Kurt like he was seeing heaven. Kurt loved the sight so he leaned down to kiss him, just once. “Stand up, please.”

Warren shot to his feet, standing way too close, and his grin turned lustful as he stared at Kurt's body. Kurt tried not to feel nervous standing naked next to the most perfect male specimen not painted on a church ceiling, but it was hard. And getting harder, with the way Warren was looking at him.

“Turn around,” Kurt ordered in a whisper, and was thrilled when Warren obeyed. His angel tucked his wing in to pass, but flared them out when his back was to Kurt, caging him in feathers.

Kurt ignored the black spot to his left and focused on taking off Warren's undershirt. It was specially made, with buttons below the wing holes, so Warren wouldn't have to twist himself to take it off. Kurt had made it himself. He stood on tiptoe to lift it over Warren's head, and heard the sound of heavier fabric hitting the floor when Warren dropped his jeans. He kicked them out of the shower, followed by the undershirt.

Naked, Warren turned back to Kurt, wings fluttering in anticipation. Rather than touch him, like Warren was probably expecting, Kurt reached for the shower knob with his tail. He laughed when the cold stream hit Warren in the face, making him yelp.

“God, you're the worst,” Warren chuckled, shaking his face clear while Kurt fiddled with the controls. Soon the water was steamy warm, and Warren positioned himself under it with a moan, keeping his hands clear. Standing relaxed, wings lowered to his side, Warren looked gorgeous and tempting, but now was not the time, and this was certainly not the place.

Kurt considered his options. He'd have to help wash Warren's hair, wings, and body. And while he knew which he'd enjoy the most, washing Warren's body first would be too distracting.

“You don't have to do this,” Warren said when Kurt picked the bottle of curly-hair specific shampoo. “Really, I can probably handle this, if you don't want to. I can just redo the bandages.”

Kurt paused. “Do you not want my help?”

“I do! I mean- It's just…” Warren trailed off, staring at the floor, and Kurt mentally finished his sentence. He wasn't used to someone's care, not like this. This was all new to him.

Kurt, however, had his family, old and new. He knew how to take care of someone, and how to show his love. It wasn't Warren's fault that life had been so cruel to him, but Kurt would always and gladly do his best to show his angel how things should be.

“I said I'd make you feel better, Warren, and I want to do this. I'm happy to help you.” Kurt stepped up, pouring shampoo into his hand. “Put your head down, please.”

Warren didn't argue again, closing his eyes and leaning down so Kurt could reach his hair. Kurt ran his claws through the wet strands carefully, loving how it felt. Warren made a quiet noise of appreciation as Kurt massaged his scalp, washing any ash and grime away. The sweet smell of the shampoo lingered around them, clearing the bad smells out.

“Okay, rinse.” Kurt gently pushed him back in the steam of water, watching the water cascade down his body. Mouth dry, Kurt followed it all the way to Warren's hips, before snapping his eyes back up guiltily. Warren had enjoyed the attention to his hair, that was obvious. 

Kurt helped him rinse his hair, careful to keep a distance between their bodies. Warren was making that difficult, though, continuously stepping into Kurt's space with a teasing grin, until they were dancing around each other under the shower.

“Knock it off, Warren,” Kurt warned. “You don't want the professor getting after us, do you?”

“Ugh, don't remind me,” Warren groaned. “I really don't want to be thinking about him in this shower right now.”

“Do you think Herr Lehnsherr has ever helped him shower like this?” Kurt wondered. He grinned at the disgusted look Warren gave him.

“I said I don't wanna think about it, you little perv. Are you gonna help with my wings or just stare at me some more?”

Blushing, Kurt grabbed the baby shampoo, the only stuff Warren allowed near his wings. Kurt only knew about it because Warren had thrown a fit after an impromptu food fight with Scott ended with gravy streaking his feathers.

The wings were normally self-cleaning, and Warren preened them like any bird would. He told Kurt that he only had to wash them if the natural oils coating them were stripped, or if they were really dirty. Even then, he only used water, or gentle shampoo for the dirtiest situations. Anything else and he couldn't fly.

Warren moistened the feathers of his right wing under the shower stream. Kurt wrinkled his nose when the smell of burnt things filled the steamy air again. He moved in to help, gently stroking his hands across the smooth feathers. Bits of ash washed away from his fingers.

Kurt jumped when Warren's arm wrapped around his waist, bandaged hand tucked away from his wet body. Kurt looked up to see Warren looking down at him, a soft look on his face. He ducked his head to kiss Kurt, lingering and slow. Kurt kissed back, rising on his tiptoes and bringing his hand up to run through Warren's hair. His heart beat wildly, and he felt the first delicious tingles of joyful pleasure he always got when he kissed Warren. He imagined it was what heaven felt like.

Warren pulled back, trailing his lips over Kurt's cheek to his forehead. “Thank you. Thank you for, you know, all of this,” he whispered, barely audible over the sound of water. Kurt kissed his neck, lingering on the spot he knew Warren loved.

“I'm not going anywhere, _Engel._ ” Kurt answered, rubbing his cheek against the soft skin of his love’s neck. Warren sighed, blowing the damp strands of Kurt's hair with his breath, a mix of relief and happiness. Kurt's chest clenched at the feeling. Making Warren happy was the greatest reward.

“I still need to wash your wings,” he reminded his friend after the hug lasted longer than it should. Warren pulled away unhappily, flaring his right wing out to its greatest length. Kurt poured out a glob of shampoo into his hand and lathered it up, rubbing the suds along the firm wingbone.

Very carefully, he rubbed his soapy fingers down each feather, taking care to straighten any imperfections he found. Warren remained perfectly still, eyes on Kurt as he worked.

Kurt took his time and enjoyed it, loving the way each feather came away whiter and straighter under his attention. Not just anyone got the chance to groom an angel. Not even himself. Warren was so careful about his wings; it had taken weeks after they had gotten together just for Kurt to be able to touch them.

When he was done, Warren lowered his wing back into the water stream to rinse it off. Kurt eyed his injured wing, especially the black feathers that reminded him of an ugly oil stain. Warren noticed his gaze, and turned so that wing was the one under the water.

“Ow, fuck,” he hissed when water struck the burned area. Kurt hurried to clean up the wing when he pulled it out quickly.

When most of the wing was covered in soap, Kurt paused to examine the damaged feathers. One of the secondary flight feathers was entirely burnt, but the two surrounding it were only singed. The vanes of the singed feathers were falling away under the water, leaving them oddly half-bald, but perhaps still usable. The burnt one, however…

“You gotta pull that one.” Warren was feeling the base of the feather with the tips of his fingers, wincing when he touched the sensitive burned skin. “Give the new one time to grow before it scars. Or maybe I'll have a bald spot, I don't know.”

“You sure? Will it hurt?” Kurt wondered. Warren had assured him that molting was normally painless (“Itchy as fuck, though,” he'd said.) But now the skin was red and raw, painfully burnt. And it wasn't falling out naturally, it was being pulled.

“Probably, but I don't want it in my wing like this. It's useless.” That was true, most of the vanes had already washed away, leaving the darkened shaft behind. “I should be able to fly still anyway. That's most important.”

Kurt nodded, remembering Warren's impatience when the feathers were first growing back after the metal ones had fallen out. He'd tried to get back in the air even before they'd fully grown, awkwardly hopping around the yard while frantically flapping. Thankfully Kurt had been the only one to witness the spectacle. The feathers grew fast, though, and soon Warren was happily soaring. His mood improved immensely as well.

If there was one thing Warren hated more than anything else, it was being grounded.

“Hold still,” he gently instructed, and took hold of the black shaft. Warren was already grimacing from the touch, and yelped loudly when Kurt sharply yanked the dead feather from its bed. Kurt dropped it and examined the area. There was a gap in the feathers, like a missing tooth, but the ugly sight was much improved.

Warren carefully flapped, sending suds flying. “That hurts,” he noted, “but it'll heal. Thanks buddy.” Warren stepped back into the water, shaking his wing to rinse it off. Kurt moved in to smooth the suds away, shielding the raw patch of skin as best he could. 

This close, he could smell the fading smoke odor on his angel’s body, laced with the comforting smell of his sweaty skin. Warren's body was as familiar as his own now, and he'd been both dreading and anticipating touching him like this.

Kurt turned to grab the white bar of body soap and paused, blushing at the thought of what he was about to do. Warren noticed his hesitation and grinned his evil grin.

“There a problem, Kurt?” he teased. He flexed his wings, chest muscles moving sinfully under his skin. The shiny tattoos - the only physical reminder left of Warren's brush with Apocalypse - gleamed at him, begging to be kissed. His cock, which Kurt had done his best to avoid looking at, was flushed and ready, even after the pain of being plucked. The water washing over him only highlighted his best attributes. Drenched was a good look for Warren. 

Angel was gorgeous, far more than Kurt deserved - he could have any man or woman, mutant or human, he wished. But Kurt was the one who was here, seeing him naked and exposed. Kurt was the only one he looked at with love and trust brightening his eyes. And there was unavoidable proof that Warren had loved all the attention given by Kurt, and a promise of more.

A promise Kurt would gladly take up.

“I'm just making sure I haven't missed a spot on your wings,” Kurt replied easily, reaching out to run his hand over the right's primaries. They trembled at the gentle touch. He stroked higher, into the softer coverts, and trailed his fingers over the wing bone. The powerful muscles twitched under his fingers.

“No, you did a good job with those.” Warren's voice was deeper, his gaze no longer teasing but intense. “I'll have to pay you back for that.”

“I could think of something.” Kurt's other hand, holding the soap, came up to Warren's chest and he _slowly_ trailed it down. He felt Warren's muscles shiver under the touch. Biting his lip, Kurt ran it down the other side, lingering on his lower abdomen. Warren's choked moan made Kurt's own pleasure surge.

“Make it fast, Kurt, I don't want to do what I _want_ to do in this shower.” Warren's voice was strangled, and his chest was heaving under Kurt's hand. His bandaged hands were twitching with the urge to touch. Kurt stopped to lather up his hands. Starting at the top, he rubbed his hands down Warren's neck, then shoulders.

“What do you want to do to me?” he shyly asked, because while he could tease back and forth with Warren for hours, actually talking about sex was difficult for him. Warren had no problem with it though.

“I'm gonna pin you to the bed, run my hands all over you.” Warren gasped when Kurt's hands traced his chest muscles, fingers dodging around his sensitive nipples. “Make you writhe for this.”

“But if your hands are bandaged,” Kurt moved his hands lower, lingering on his abs, “how are you supposed to touch me?”

“I'll use my fucking mouth, okay?” Warren sounded desperate when Kurt ran his sudsy hands over his sides, down to his hips. They moved unconsciously under his hands. “I know you like that, you love watching me go down on you.”

Kurt could only nod, because that _was_ something he greatly enjoyed. He could picture it so well, his angel hunched over him, mouth moving sloppily down his chest. It was maddening, and Kurt had to pull his hands away before he did something hasty.

“Turn around. I'm almost done.” Warren turned for him again, letting his wings brush Kurt as they passed. Kurt jolted, because he hadn't been paying attention to his own body, too caught up in Warren's. His angel looked over his shoulder with a grin, and brought his wing up again. Soft feathers brushed past Kurt's erection, and he whimpered at the rush of pleasure that filled him. He grabbed Warren's shoulder, to hold himself up and hold his friend still.

“What happens next?” he asked as he washed Warren's shoulder blades.

“When I'm done kissing you everywhere? Oh, I don't know. I could suck you off, if I can't be using my hands.” Warren became very still when Kurt's hands reached the valley between his wings, rubbing softly. This was a scarred area, so much more sensitive. He had to be gentle.

A full-body shiver rocked Warren from his core to his wings, which had extended on their own. Kurt remembered how they looked flared open over his head, framing Warren's face as he orgasmed. It was a beautiful sight, one he couldn't wait to see again.

“Actually…” Warren blurted and paused, suddenly seeming nervous. “I want you to fuck me.”

Kurt froze, wondering if he heard correctly. “What?” he asked, mouth very dry.

“You heard me, Nightcrawler. I want you to fuck me.” Warren craned his next to look him dead in the eye. “I've been wanting it all week. I keep thinking about it, and I-” Warren swallowed, looking determined. “I want this, I really do. I'm ready.”

Kurt couldn't answer, overwhelmed by the weight of Warren's trust. So many before him had taken advantage of his angel, so much that Warren was still so mistrusting of a strange touch, and so unused to the kinder things in life. He'd been used and beaten so many times, always unable to escape. He had no reason to ever allow anyone close again.

But he was so gentle with Kurt, because he didn't want Kurt to feel the same pain. The first time they were together, he'd touched Kurt so softly, careful caresses that actually drove him wild. Afterwards, Warren had choked up, overwhelmed, and quietly admitted that he'd almost forgotten how good it could be to have sex with another person.

And in return, Kurt always made sure Warren was ready for every touch, every action. Sometimes Warren had bad days, where he shied away from everyone, and on those days Kurt didn't press him. And he always stayed, even when Warren was angry or silent. He was always there for his friend, because he knew what it meant to have someone who stayed.

His angel trusted him with his wings, and his heart, and now this. Kurt sighed and leaned forward, arms coming up from behind to hug Warren right around the middle. He kissed Warren right between his wings, feeling him tremble at the touch.

“I'll do whatever you want, Warren. Whatever makes you happy.” Kurt could feel Warren relax under his hands, feel the sigh of relief. He rubbed his cheek across Warren's scarred back, ignoring the water spilling over his head.

“Right now I want out of this shower so we can get on with it.” Kurt nodded and let him go. He picked up the lost feather while Warren rinsed for the last time, and grabbed a towel for himself. He heard the shower squeak off, and turned to see Warren emerging from the steam like a young rock god stepping onstage.

Kurt swallowed hard at the beautiful sight. “Dry off, fast, please.” He practically threw the towel in Warren's face, watching eagerly while Warren dried off. Kurt used another towel to wipe off each dripping wing. Before he was finished Warren had him caged with his arms and wings. Kurt leaned into his body, giggling when feathers brushed his sides.

Kurt turned to kiss Warren, enjoying how their damp bodies pressed together. Warren deepened the kiss, urgent but at the same time lingering. Anticipation for what was next drove the kiss, a preview of what was to come.

“Let-mmph!” Warren bit his lip when he tried to speak. Kurt gave in for a moment, enjoying the kiss, the closeness, before he gently pushed away. “Let me get your stuff, then we can go to your room.”

“You better be teleporting us - I'm not walking back to my room like this.” Warren reluctantly let Kurt step away to grab the shampoo bottles, while he grabbed the piles of clothes. 

Kurt freed a hand and grabbed Warren's arm, picturing Warren's room. It's space and it's shape, how it would look dark but familiar. In the space of a breath they were there.

They appeared right at the edge of the bed, so it was easy to drop everything and for Warren to push him back onto the covers. Kurt pulled him willingly on top, so they were both sprawled on the bed together, kissing and touching. Happiness filled Kurt like a balloon, making him smile into the kiss. Being back in Warren's embrace was like heaven.

Warren dragged his mouth away from Kurt's, breathing harsh. “Fuck, I missed this.” He dropped his head back down, kissing the space between Kurt's collarbones. “God damn I missed this. Missed you.”

Kurt could only moan in agreement, because Warren was also trailing the tips of his fingers and the back of his hands over his hips. Sparks of pleasure danced over his skin, and his tail was writhing beneath him. Warren kissed lower, kneeling up over him, running his tongue over the swirling design on his sternum. Open-mouthed kisses traveled down his chest, interspersed with teasing bites. Warren was very good with his mouth, and he always took advantage of Kurt's sensitivity.

Kurt could hardly breathe, the pleasant kisses nearly stealing his breath. Annoyingly, Warren stopped at his hips, not touching his cock like he'd earlier teased. He ran his lips across the marks there instead, meeting Kurt's desperate eyes with mischief in his own.

Warren's wings, clean and almost whole, arched over their heads. Kurt reached out with both hands, one finding its home in Warren's wet and curly hair. The other touched the glossy feathers and gently stroked across them. Warren made a quiet noise of encouragement, so Kurt kept it up even as Warren's mouth moved back up his chest, and he paid more attention to a very sensitive area.

“How am I- ah!- how am I supposed to prep you? If I'm going to fuck you?” Kurt tried to muster his thoughts, which was difficult with Warren licking his nipple. Warren blew a stream of air across his wet skin, causing goosebumps to dance across his skin.

“Well, I'll do it, I guess.” Warren sat back and looked at his bandaged hands, considering. Kurt dropped his hands to Warren's hips, claws teasing across the marks there. He could see Warren's cock twitch at the touch and grinned to himself. It was also reassuring, proof that Warren did want this.

Warren picked at the bandages wrapped around his right fingers, but shook his head. “Gonna use my left. I'll make it work.” He flexed the fingers on his left, which were unbandaged and not as damaged as the ones on the right.

Kurt watched while he leaned over to the nightstand, where their supply of lube and condoms was hidden. “We can wait, if you want,” he offered, glaring at his own claws. They were the only things stopping him from climbing on top of Warren and going the job himself.

“I told you, I fucking want to do this.” Warren leaned back over him, dropping the bottle and condom to the side. He rested his forehead against Kurt's, pressing their bodies together. One hand was rubbing Kurt's side, the other traced the lines on his face. Kurt melted under the attention, twining their legs together and wrapping his tail around Warren's thigh. Warren's wings came up to cocoon them in white, closing them off from the rest of the world.

“I just…I really fucking missed you, okay? Like, more than I thought, and I know it's cause we're together, and I like it. I like being with you.” Warren chuckled, leaning down to kiss Kurt. “And I'm really glad I'm back, after what happened. So let me do this now, while I'm so damn happy, cause we both know that doesn't last long.”

Kurt nodded his agreement, gently stroking Warren's face. That was probably the closest he'd get to hearing Warren say he loved him. And it was enough; it was perfect. His angry angel could have whatever he wanted.

Warren sat back, pulling Kurt up with him, and spread his legs. As he uncapped the bottle of lube, Kurt framed his face gently, kissing him softly. Warren drew the kiss deeper, fumbling as he coated his fingers. Reaching behind himself, Warren began prepping himself, moaning into Kurt's mouth as his finger circled his entrance.

Looking to relax him, Kurt moved one of his hands to the base of Warren's wings, rubbing gently. Warren broke the kiss to give him a heart-breakingly beautiful smile as he continued pressing his finger inside himself. Little gasps fell from his mouth as Kurt moved his hand up his wing, stroking the smooth feathers.

“I missed you as well, _Engel_ ,” Kurt said as he traced the tattoos on Warren's face with his lips. “Every night I was thinking how much I wanted you next to me, and how much I missed your wings around me.”

“Was that all you were thinking about me in bed about?” Warren had his best flirty grin on his face. He arched his back, to give himself a better angle, as Kurt could only assume he was adding another finger.

Kurt laughed at Warren's dirty mind. “As a matter of fact, I kept waking up with, what do you call it? Morning wood?”

“Yeah, and that's my fault somehow?” Kurt could see Warren's arm twisting, and he imagined how he was stretching his hole, getting himself ready. His eyes were bright as he stared at Kurt, but he didn't seem distressed. That was a good sign.

“Well, you weren't there to help me take care of it. But I imagined you were.” Kurt ran teasing claws through the covert feathers under his hands, fueling Warren's shudder.

“Fuck, Kurt,” Warren moaned. “You're giving me all kinds of ideas for later.” He pulled back and withdrew his hand. Kurt helpfully grabbed the lube bottle and helped him redcoat his fingers. “Right now, though, I want you to keep playing with my wings.”

“Oh yeah?” Kurt reached up with both hands to grab hold right beneath the sharp talons. Warren's free arm wrapped around his waist to hold him pressed to his chest as his hand went back to work. Kurt ran his hands down, over the primaries, grinning at Warren when his eyelids fluttered at the touch.

“That feels really good, yeah,” Warren sighed, arching his back again. His face was so rapturously beautiful, Kurt felt blessed with the sight. No artist could dream of recreating the sight.

Kurt stroked the feathers with a new intensity. He mimicked the movements he'd seen Warren use when he was grooming. Now he understood why Warren was so relaxed afterwards. He was breathing heavily, eyes closed and neck arched, but he wasn't tense at all. Warren was enjoying this, so very much.

Their cocks were pressed between their bodies, rubbing together just enough to excite. Kurt freed a hand to come between them to grip Warren's shaft, careful of his talons as usual. He stroked gently, and mirrored the movement with the hand on the wing. Warren's gasp of pleasure was loud in his ear.

Kurt ran his fingers along the long flight feathers, loving the way the wing seemed to press into the touch. The hand in the small of Kurt's back was kneading softly, right above the base of his tail, where Warren knew he was sensitive. Kurt watched his other arm twist, and peered over Warren's shoulder to see he had three fingers inside himself now, moving at the same pace as Kurt's hand.

“I, uh, I think you're ready,” Kurt stammered out, face red. Warren finally opened his eyes to look at him, mouth slack and eyes bright. Kurt knew that look, that normally came right before Warren started fucking him with intensity. But this time it would be reversed. He felt anticipation mix with the lovely pleasure already coursing through his veins.

“I am _so_ ready for this,” Warren replied. He removed his hand and pushed past Kurt, arranging himself face-down on the bed. Kurt swallowed hard at the sight. He assumed they'd be face-to-face, but Warren arched his wings and hips, and looked back at Kurt, anticipation on his face.

Kurt grabbed the bottle of lube and the condom from where they'd been abandoned. Warren watched with intense focus as Kurt rolled the rubber on himself, smearing it with a generous dose of lube. Taking a deep breath, he leaned over Warren, one hand braced next to his torso. He could feel feathers tickling his arm as he lined himself up.

“Are you ready?” he asked softly, focused on the body underneath him. Any sign of distress and he would pull back, unquestioningly.

“So fucking ready, Kurt.” Warren breathed out as Kurt pushed in, trying to go slowly. It was difficult, though, because he could feel Warren beneath him, the way his hips were moving in encouragement as Kurt slid in further. Then there was the sensation, the feeling of heat and tightness around his dick. Kurt moaned at the feeling, so much more intense than when Warren used his mouth. It was electrifying, it was insane.

“Fuck, Kurt,” Warren moaned, muffling his face in the pillow beneath his head. “Don't fucking stop!” he demanded when Kurt slowed at his words. He moved his hips more firmly, encouraging Kurt to slide in further.

Kurt grabbed Warren's hip, holding him still as he slid the rest of the way in. “ _Gott,_ Warren,” he whimpered. He leaned over Warren, so his chest was against Warren's back and those beautiful wings were framing his sides. He kissed the space between the two, right in the middle of Warren's spine. “This is incredible.”

“Keep moving, please!” Warren sounded desperate, so Kurt began moving, thrusting with what he thought was the same force Warren used when he was on top. The pleasured noises coming from his angel seemed to indicate he was doing a good job.

It was fantastic, being on top like this, so different than what Kurt was used to in bed. He changed the angle of his thrusts slightly, so he could lean up and run lips and teeth down Warren's throat. Warren gasped, gripping the sheets and bucking his hips. Kurt did it again, feeling the wings at his side tremble at the touch.

Kurt dropped his hand to loosely grab Warren's cock, loving it's warmth in his hand. Warren practically shouted, hips snapping against Kurt's thrusts. “Oh my fucking god, Kurt,” he gasped, “this is amazing. Don't fucking stop, please.”

Kurt grinned, happiness mixing with pleasure. This was what his angel wanted, and he was loving it. Keeping the hand on his dick moving, Kurt slowed his thrusts to reach up with his other hand. He stroked it over the wing bone, from the base to the talon.

Warren's gasp turned into a shocked cry, and Kurt slowed when he felt wetness on his hand. Warren had come, quickly it seemed, but they'd been teasing towards this for a while. Kurt helped Warren slump onto the bed, hands gentle on his sides.

“Should I pull out?” he asked. Warren's breathing was still harsh, but he shook his head no.

“Keep going,” he replied. Kurt could hear the plea in his voice, understood that he wanted Kurt right where he was. He began moving again, thrusting slowly at first, but picking up speed when he realized he wouldn't last longer either. Warren lifted his hips to help, a hand reaching out and grabbing Kurt's tail when his thrusts became erratic. 

Kurt shouted when he came, crying out at the feeling of release. Warren's gasp reflected his pleasure, sighing when Kurt finished thrusting. He ended up sprawled on his angel’s back, face in his clean curls. For a while they laid there together, catching their breaths.

“That was amazing,” Kurt sighed, pulling out and sitting up with effort. He turned to throw away the condom, but before he could reach for the tissues to clean up, Warren's arms and wings came up around him. Warren sat up and hugged him close, as if he was trying to make them one body. 

“Thank you, Kurt.” Warren's voice was wrecked, tight with emotion, but he was smiling as he kissed Kurt's neck. “You're amazing. I'm never gonna fucking let you go, ever.”

“That's fine with me.” Kurt beamed when Warren pulled him back into bed, cuddling him close. He touched the feathers surrounding him, loving their softness. They were so beautiful like this.

“You're free to help me clean my wings, anytime you want,” Warren chuckled. Kurt laughed too, eyes closing. Warren at his back, fingers in feathers, Kurt relaxed in his angel’s embrace, feeling so very blessed.

**Author's Note:**

> Few things...
> 
> True story, I have been locked in the fridge of a liquor store. It was fun.
> 
> For washing Warren's wings, I drew from the Wiki-How for washing chickens, which is the most charmingly adorable thing on the internet. I encourage you all to look it up.
> 
> Also, there is no damn reason Warren's tattoos aren't just on his face. Imagine them all over his body. Imagine it. That's my personal headcanon.
> 
> My tumblr is blasphemous-lies-and-deceit.tumblr.com, please join me.


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